Chapter Twenty-Two
I awoke with the sunrise. My back was sore was leaning against stone and carrying my heavy bag, and my left leg hurt from strain.
Nonetheless, I clambored to my feet, and looked around.
Osgiliath was a big place. It may have been in ruins, but it was still freakin' huge. I sat down on the pillar, and dug around my bag, withdrawing one of the palantiri.
I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Actually, it was a stupid thing to do, since the whole place seemed to be abandoned. I unwrapped the palantir, and held it tightly, trying to bend its power to my will.
The world was black, but out of the jet a faint light grew, until I was once again in the stone room. I began to feel the pull of the palantir, and it was as if I was moving, but not with my own will. The seeing stone was guiding me.
Feeling fatigue draw near, I opened my eyes, observing my surroundings. I was no longer by the pillar. I was standing in a large, stately looking room, undoubtably that of royalty. I knew the room was below the king's chamber, but I didn't know how to get there.
I felt the pulling of the palantir, and followed it until I stood in the far corner of the room. I knelt, and examined the floor. There didn't seem to be any markings that a trapdoor ever existed. The tugging increased to discomfort as I looked around wildly for a way to get to the room.
There was nothing. Panic overcame me as the pulling changed from gentle to a strong yank. My head pounded, and my whole body felt wrong. I went down of my hands and knees as the palantir persisted its drawing. It became hard to breath, and I felt as if I were dying. My vision darkened, and I slumped against the wall in a faint.
.
When I awoke, I was in almost complete darkness. My head still hurt, but the pulling had subsided. A ways off, I could see the source of light; it was coming from a trapdoor on the ceiling.
I stood, and walked towards it, and the tugging began again. I whirled around, and followed the current until my head hit something hanging from the ceiling. My hands groped the air, finally clasping a spherical object suspended by a chain basket. I lifted it from the net, and held it.
Grinning tiredly, I slipped it in my pack with the other two. Now my pack felt as heavy as four college textbooks. Bent a bit, I turned back to the trapdoor, and approached it. I threw my pack up through it, and heaved myself back into the room.
I concluded that when I had fallen against the wall, I had depressed the trigger to open the door. The answer seemed a bit Indiana Jones-ish, but I didn't care.
Shouldering my bag, I wandered out of the room, and back into the waning sunlight. It was nearly nightfall; I must have been unconscious for a long while.
In the distance, I could see the white towers of Icthelion gleaming in the sun. I smiled, and headed towards them.
I walked for awhile, and then stopped to rest. My eyes grazed the Mountains of Shadow, and saw Mt. Doom teeming with fire beyond.
I dug one of the palantir I had just recovered out of my bag, and turned it over in my hands. It was so perfectly round and smooth. . .
With no warning, I was jerked into blackness, my open eyes saw nothing, and my heart nearly stopped.
Pulsing and revolving, the firey eye grew. Pain seered through me, and I tried desperatley to drop it, but I couldn't. Now flames filled my vision, and in the middle resided that hideous obsidian pupil. It roved back and forth, finally focusing on me, and the pain increased.
Faintly, I felt the eath shake, and the gaze of the eyes snapped from me. The pain decreased slightly, but I couldn't release the palantir.
Then it happened.
A scream of two notes reverated through me. One was ear splittingly high, and the other was almost inaudibly deep. It quavered and shrieked, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop, for when it began, unimaginable pain wracked my body, and I felt as if my very insides were on fire.
And then it ceased. The screech wailed to silence, and I knew no more.
.
"Lady El!"
The whisper was in the distance, as if there was a massive wall between my caller and me. I tried to open my eyes, but it hurt to move. My whole body ached so much, I wondered if I was even alive.
"El!"
The caller was closer now, but still sounded distorted. I strained my eyelids to open, and squinted through my lashes. The sun beat down mercilessly into my eyes, and a dark figure loomed over me.
"Eleanor!" It cried, louder this time, and it was finally clear. I felt two hands wrap around either of my shoulders and shake me.
It was a gentle shake, but my limbs screamed with pain as the action persisted. A shriek escaped my throat, and the shaking ended abrubtly.
"I- I'm sorry." the voice stammered. This time I recognized him. I forced my eyes to open all the way. Looking blearily into his anxious face, I tried to smile. It must have looked like a wince, because- "Am I still hurting you?" Eomer asked, yanking his hands off my shoulders.
"That," I began weakly, "was an attempted smile."
Eomer's concerned countanences flickered, but he maintained a look of worry. "You were lying in a crumpled heap; I had thought you were-"
"Just unconsious." I assured him.
"What happened?"
I told him. I told him about the palantiri, and my finding one in the concealed room, and how I had seen Sauron.
Eomer remained silent after I finished, and I wondered if he even believed me. I timidly asked him what was on my mind. Clasping my hand in both of his, he replied, "I believe every word you have ever told me, and my silence was from awe. El," he continued, helping me to my feet, "you have seen, done, and experienced more things than any woman in Middle Earth, save perhaps my sister, even dreamed of doing. I hold you in the highest of praise."
Flattered, but trembling with pain and fatigue, I lowered myself back to the ground where this cursed thing called gravity wouldn't affect me as much. Eomer knelt down to my level, "Come, let me help you to my horse, and we shall return to Minas Tirith."
We did just that. With every jolt of the horse, my muscles ached, but I tried not to show it. As we arrived at the gates, they opened before Eomer even had to call out.
"I shall take you back to the House of Healing." Eomer declared, guiding his horse through the city.
"No," I protested, "I will be fine; I never want to have to stay there again."
"But-" he objected. I shook my head defiantly, and he fell silent. Seeing two women bow their heads as we passed, I remembered what must have happened.
"The Ring has been destroyed, yes?" I asked.
"Ay, and Sauron has been defeated by none other than a Hobbit and his servant." Eomer replied eagerly, "It was a glorious victory, but marred by orcs and filth. The two hobbits are in the House of Healing, and Master Took and Master Brandybuck are with Aragorn. His coronation will be soon," he babbled, faster, and faster, "and there is rumor it will also be the day his true love arrives in this city. They say she is more beautiful than the star she was named after."
"Where are we headed, then?" I interrupted.
"To the citadel, where the others await."
The rest of the trip was Eomer's giddy yammering. He told me about how Faramir and Eowyn wished to marry, of the Eagles that came at the Dagorlad outside the Morannon, and how he, Eomer, was to become king of the Riddermark upon his return to Edoras.
"We all have felt so blessed these past days," he concluded, "but I wish that-" Eomer faltered, and as he did so, we arrived at the stairs leading up to the battlement before the citedel.
I slid off the horse, and clutched the wall for strength. My legs still felt weak, and I wondered if returning to the house of healing wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Shall I carry you?" Eomer inquired, and without waiting for an answer, he caught me up with one hand behind my knees and the other supporting my back, he carried my up the steps.
I've never been carried before, and I only wish I wasn't in as much pain as I was, or else I might have enjoyed it more.
At the top of the steps, he set me down, but kept one arm around me to help me walk. We entered the citedel, and there sat Aragorn regally on the throne, bending down, and talking with Faramir, who sat at the steward's chair. Off to the side was Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Sam, and Pippin, all talking in low voices.
As the door closed behind us, Aragorn looked, and smiled broadly.
"Orthalion," he called, descending the steps to greet me. Still using Eomer as support, I took a few steps forward, grinning wide.
Legolas, Gimli, and the Hobbits drew near. Merry and Pippin both hurrying to hug me.
Oh, hugging a Hobbit was ten times as wonderful as I thought it would be. My pain vanished momentarily as I knelt and the three of us embraced, and I felt warm and fuzzy all over.
Then I straightened up, and smiled at Sam. He looked uneasy and worried. After looking around for a moment, I asked, "Where's Frodo?"
"Gandalf's with him, but he still sleeps." Sam replied knowingly.
"And Eowyn?"
"She is down in the Rath Dinen," Faramir answered, standing, "to grieve for Theoden King."
With Eomer's arm still around me, I felt him sag slightly, but remain silent.
Just then, the door flung open, and Mithrandir strode in. His eyes latched onto me, and hastened to my side.
"El, or are you Orthalion?" He began snappishly, "I have been searching for you all morning." I was about to give a scathing reply about being unconscious, but he continued, "There is a palantir at Barad Dur, and you must go there as soon as possible."
"How?" I demanded.
"Meneldor the Swift has agreed to take you, now follow me." Without another word, he whirled around and left. I turned and looked hopelessly at the rest.
"Hurry, El, he is waiting." Legolas called. Snapping out of my phase, I followed after the wizard, limping slightly from the waining pain.
My aching was forgotten, however, as soon as I saw where Mithrandir had led me.
On the battlement he stood, at the very edge, where perched two enormous sleek eagles; Noble looking and proud.
"This is Meneldor," the wizard said, gesturing to the smaller of the two, "now mount him and he will take to the remains of Barad Dur. I will follow behind on Gwaihir. Hurry!"
Confused and tired, I did as he told, and gripped the feathers of the eagle tightly. The eagle took off, beginning the most uncomfortable and terryifying hours of my life.
The ground was hundreds of feet below, and the wind stung my eyes. I felt dizzy and sick, and my fingers grew numb from grasping the feathers. I shut my eyes tight, and found my happy place.
Ironically enough, it was flying my airplane. Swooping in and out of clouds, secure in the seat, with the hum of the engine throbbing with my heart. Safety. Ah, blissful sanctuary from the wind and world below.
Meneldor gave a piercing scream, jolting me from my happy lapse. I forced my tearing eyes open, squinting down again.
No longer was the ground a green shade. It was black, grey, and in some places, glowing red-gold. The sky was crimson and ebony, and the horizon was rimmed with evil-looking mountains.
Mordor. .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
.
AAAclub: That sucks, definately. My parents have deprived me of many a lovely things. Ah, not that blank. To be blank would be to leave a blank review. Hmmm. That would really confuse me....
chibi-mairi: Tig. Ah, what a wonderful game that is. Couldn't you just see the two of them parading around Minas Tirith with a group of women behind them picketing sign "Votes for Women!" Hehe. Votes for women, step in time, votes for women step in time, never need a reason never need a rhyme, votes for women, step in time! OK! Now that I got THAT out of my system, I'll be sane for a few days longer...
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Yep, it's Elvish. Or is it Elven? Gah, who knows. I think I'm going to have Eleanor asked Aragorn what it means in one of these chapters, just so everyone knows, but it's not that big of a deal. Nor is it insulting. What a fun trick! An Elf or Aragorn gives someone a pretty-sounding Elvish/en name, only to have it mean 'idiot' or pompous.' Hehe, when does the fun end?!
I awoke with the sunrise. My back was sore was leaning against stone and carrying my heavy bag, and my left leg hurt from strain.
Nonetheless, I clambored to my feet, and looked around.
Osgiliath was a big place. It may have been in ruins, but it was still freakin' huge. I sat down on the pillar, and dug around my bag, withdrawing one of the palantiri.
I glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Actually, it was a stupid thing to do, since the whole place seemed to be abandoned. I unwrapped the palantir, and held it tightly, trying to bend its power to my will.
The world was black, but out of the jet a faint light grew, until I was once again in the stone room. I began to feel the pull of the palantir, and it was as if I was moving, but not with my own will. The seeing stone was guiding me.
Feeling fatigue draw near, I opened my eyes, observing my surroundings. I was no longer by the pillar. I was standing in a large, stately looking room, undoubtably that of royalty. I knew the room was below the king's chamber, but I didn't know how to get there.
I felt the pulling of the palantir, and followed it until I stood in the far corner of the room. I knelt, and examined the floor. There didn't seem to be any markings that a trapdoor ever existed. The tugging increased to discomfort as I looked around wildly for a way to get to the room.
There was nothing. Panic overcame me as the pulling changed from gentle to a strong yank. My head pounded, and my whole body felt wrong. I went down of my hands and knees as the palantir persisted its drawing. It became hard to breath, and I felt as if I were dying. My vision darkened, and I slumped against the wall in a faint.
.
When I awoke, I was in almost complete darkness. My head still hurt, but the pulling had subsided. A ways off, I could see the source of light; it was coming from a trapdoor on the ceiling.
I stood, and walked towards it, and the tugging began again. I whirled around, and followed the current until my head hit something hanging from the ceiling. My hands groped the air, finally clasping a spherical object suspended by a chain basket. I lifted it from the net, and held it.
Grinning tiredly, I slipped it in my pack with the other two. Now my pack felt as heavy as four college textbooks. Bent a bit, I turned back to the trapdoor, and approached it. I threw my pack up through it, and heaved myself back into the room.
I concluded that when I had fallen against the wall, I had depressed the trigger to open the door. The answer seemed a bit Indiana Jones-ish, but I didn't care.
Shouldering my bag, I wandered out of the room, and back into the waning sunlight. It was nearly nightfall; I must have been unconscious for a long while.
In the distance, I could see the white towers of Icthelion gleaming in the sun. I smiled, and headed towards them.
I walked for awhile, and then stopped to rest. My eyes grazed the Mountains of Shadow, and saw Mt. Doom teeming with fire beyond.
I dug one of the palantir I had just recovered out of my bag, and turned it over in my hands. It was so perfectly round and smooth. . .
With no warning, I was jerked into blackness, my open eyes saw nothing, and my heart nearly stopped.
Pulsing and revolving, the firey eye grew. Pain seered through me, and I tried desperatley to drop it, but I couldn't. Now flames filled my vision, and in the middle resided that hideous obsidian pupil. It roved back and forth, finally focusing on me, and the pain increased.
Faintly, I felt the eath shake, and the gaze of the eyes snapped from me. The pain decreased slightly, but I couldn't release the palantir.
Then it happened.
A scream of two notes reverated through me. One was ear splittingly high, and the other was almost inaudibly deep. It quavered and shrieked, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop, for when it began, unimaginable pain wracked my body, and I felt as if my very insides were on fire.
And then it ceased. The screech wailed to silence, and I knew no more.
.
"Lady El!"
The whisper was in the distance, as if there was a massive wall between my caller and me. I tried to open my eyes, but it hurt to move. My whole body ached so much, I wondered if I was even alive.
"El!"
The caller was closer now, but still sounded distorted. I strained my eyelids to open, and squinted through my lashes. The sun beat down mercilessly into my eyes, and a dark figure loomed over me.
"Eleanor!" It cried, louder this time, and it was finally clear. I felt two hands wrap around either of my shoulders and shake me.
It was a gentle shake, but my limbs screamed with pain as the action persisted. A shriek escaped my throat, and the shaking ended abrubtly.
"I- I'm sorry." the voice stammered. This time I recognized him. I forced my eyes to open all the way. Looking blearily into his anxious face, I tried to smile. It must have looked like a wince, because- "Am I still hurting you?" Eomer asked, yanking his hands off my shoulders.
"That," I began weakly, "was an attempted smile."
Eomer's concerned countanences flickered, but he maintained a look of worry. "You were lying in a crumpled heap; I had thought you were-"
"Just unconsious." I assured him.
"What happened?"
I told him. I told him about the palantiri, and my finding one in the concealed room, and how I had seen Sauron.
Eomer remained silent after I finished, and I wondered if he even believed me. I timidly asked him what was on my mind. Clasping my hand in both of his, he replied, "I believe every word you have ever told me, and my silence was from awe. El," he continued, helping me to my feet, "you have seen, done, and experienced more things than any woman in Middle Earth, save perhaps my sister, even dreamed of doing. I hold you in the highest of praise."
Flattered, but trembling with pain and fatigue, I lowered myself back to the ground where this cursed thing called gravity wouldn't affect me as much. Eomer knelt down to my level, "Come, let me help you to my horse, and we shall return to Minas Tirith."
We did just that. With every jolt of the horse, my muscles ached, but I tried not to show it. As we arrived at the gates, they opened before Eomer even had to call out.
"I shall take you back to the House of Healing." Eomer declared, guiding his horse through the city.
"No," I protested, "I will be fine; I never want to have to stay there again."
"But-" he objected. I shook my head defiantly, and he fell silent. Seeing two women bow their heads as we passed, I remembered what must have happened.
"The Ring has been destroyed, yes?" I asked.
"Ay, and Sauron has been defeated by none other than a Hobbit and his servant." Eomer replied eagerly, "It was a glorious victory, but marred by orcs and filth. The two hobbits are in the House of Healing, and Master Took and Master Brandybuck are with Aragorn. His coronation will be soon," he babbled, faster, and faster, "and there is rumor it will also be the day his true love arrives in this city. They say she is more beautiful than the star she was named after."
"Where are we headed, then?" I interrupted.
"To the citadel, where the others await."
The rest of the trip was Eomer's giddy yammering. He told me about how Faramir and Eowyn wished to marry, of the Eagles that came at the Dagorlad outside the Morannon, and how he, Eomer, was to become king of the Riddermark upon his return to Edoras.
"We all have felt so blessed these past days," he concluded, "but I wish that-" Eomer faltered, and as he did so, we arrived at the stairs leading up to the battlement before the citedel.
I slid off the horse, and clutched the wall for strength. My legs still felt weak, and I wondered if returning to the house of healing wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Shall I carry you?" Eomer inquired, and without waiting for an answer, he caught me up with one hand behind my knees and the other supporting my back, he carried my up the steps.
I've never been carried before, and I only wish I wasn't in as much pain as I was, or else I might have enjoyed it more.
At the top of the steps, he set me down, but kept one arm around me to help me walk. We entered the citedel, and there sat Aragorn regally on the throne, bending down, and talking with Faramir, who sat at the steward's chair. Off to the side was Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Sam, and Pippin, all talking in low voices.
As the door closed behind us, Aragorn looked, and smiled broadly.
"Orthalion," he called, descending the steps to greet me. Still using Eomer as support, I took a few steps forward, grinning wide.
Legolas, Gimli, and the Hobbits drew near. Merry and Pippin both hurrying to hug me.
Oh, hugging a Hobbit was ten times as wonderful as I thought it would be. My pain vanished momentarily as I knelt and the three of us embraced, and I felt warm and fuzzy all over.
Then I straightened up, and smiled at Sam. He looked uneasy and worried. After looking around for a moment, I asked, "Where's Frodo?"
"Gandalf's with him, but he still sleeps." Sam replied knowingly.
"And Eowyn?"
"She is down in the Rath Dinen," Faramir answered, standing, "to grieve for Theoden King."
With Eomer's arm still around me, I felt him sag slightly, but remain silent.
Just then, the door flung open, and Mithrandir strode in. His eyes latched onto me, and hastened to my side.
"El, or are you Orthalion?" He began snappishly, "I have been searching for you all morning." I was about to give a scathing reply about being unconscious, but he continued, "There is a palantir at Barad Dur, and you must go there as soon as possible."
"How?" I demanded.
"Meneldor the Swift has agreed to take you, now follow me." Without another word, he whirled around and left. I turned and looked hopelessly at the rest.
"Hurry, El, he is waiting." Legolas called. Snapping out of my phase, I followed after the wizard, limping slightly from the waining pain.
My aching was forgotten, however, as soon as I saw where Mithrandir had led me.
On the battlement he stood, at the very edge, where perched two enormous sleek eagles; Noble looking and proud.
"This is Meneldor," the wizard said, gesturing to the smaller of the two, "now mount him and he will take to the remains of Barad Dur. I will follow behind on Gwaihir. Hurry!"
Confused and tired, I did as he told, and gripped the feathers of the eagle tightly. The eagle took off, beginning the most uncomfortable and terryifying hours of my life.
The ground was hundreds of feet below, and the wind stung my eyes. I felt dizzy and sick, and my fingers grew numb from grasping the feathers. I shut my eyes tight, and found my happy place.
Ironically enough, it was flying my airplane. Swooping in and out of clouds, secure in the seat, with the hum of the engine throbbing with my heart. Safety. Ah, blissful sanctuary from the wind and world below.
Meneldor gave a piercing scream, jolting me from my happy lapse. I forced my tearing eyes open, squinting down again.
No longer was the ground a green shade. It was black, grey, and in some places, glowing red-gold. The sky was crimson and ebony, and the horizon was rimmed with evil-looking mountains.
Mordor. .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
.
AAAclub: That sucks, definately. My parents have deprived me of many a lovely things. Ah, not that blank. To be blank would be to leave a blank review. Hmmm. That would really confuse me....
chibi-mairi: Tig. Ah, what a wonderful game that is. Couldn't you just see the two of them parading around Minas Tirith with a group of women behind them picketing sign "Votes for Women!" Hehe. Votes for women, step in time, votes for women step in time, never need a reason never need a rhyme, votes for women, step in time! OK! Now that I got THAT out of my system, I'll be sane for a few days longer...
Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Yep, it's Elvish. Or is it Elven? Gah, who knows. I think I'm going to have Eleanor asked Aragorn what it means in one of these chapters, just so everyone knows, but it's not that big of a deal. Nor is it insulting. What a fun trick! An Elf or Aragorn gives someone a pretty-sounding Elvish/en name, only to have it mean 'idiot' or pompous.' Hehe, when does the fun end?!